


Restoring Diplomacy

by Sorcas



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Handmaidens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorcas/pseuds/Sorcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amidala's handmaiden Sabé undergoes a coming-of-age adventure where she discovers that she learns more about herself while under the guise of someone else. **Story takes place before, during, and after the events of the Phantom Menace. The Phantom Menace starts at Chapter 4. Pre-Sabéwan in later chapters.**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long, Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Naboo and their bizarre overabundance of child prodigies are not of my creation. George beat me to it. Therefore, this makes no profit. Just funsies. ALSO: Wookieepedia is currently my new Bible.
> 
> A/N: I am very excited to finally have an opportunity to write this fan fiction. The idea of writing Sabé's perspective as Queen Amidala's decoy has always been one that I've wanted to explore. I already have the entirety of this particular story completely planned out, and more stories are well under way in the planning process for the future. This chronicle basically covers Sabé's experiences during Episode I of Star Wars. Lots of George Lucas' characters will be featured, and a *few* OCs will be seen on occasion as well. I also have a few schemes up my sleeve for keeping the story from being "just another retelling" fic. I want to make this a solid homage to the Star Wars Saga, but I also want to incorporate distinctive flavors of my own creativity as well, without making things horrifically AU or OOC. I hope I'm successful, and that I don't disappoint anyone. Though, I had to take some liberties in some cases, just to try and keep things comprehensive.  
> I hope you enjoy! Or at least are willing to give my writing a fair shake.

* * *

**35 BBY**

_**Theed, Naboo** _

I am fairly certain that I was born on the wrong planet.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my home. Naboo is by far one of the most peaceful, and beautiful worlds in the galaxy. The problem is, in comparison, I seemed to be anything but. I always felt that I was destined for some form of greatness and heroics. By the time I was ten years into my life, I was already besotted with the idea of joining the Royal Naboo Security Forces. And at that particular point in my life, they weren't exactly a favorable faction in the government.

Ever since King Ars Veruna expanded the military presence in Naboo, the people had grown bitter in the blatant break of pacifistic tradition. Security forces were no longer just a protective force in the eyes of the people. Instead, the security faction had been perverted into a mild form of law _enforcement_. A military presence being established while we were simultaneously being harassed by the early days of the Trade Federation automatically made our planet look like it was provoking a war. That was decidedly not what Naboo was initially opting for.

I was of a different mindset. In my youth, I embraced the idea that the Royal Security Forces were the like the equivalent of superheroes. It was an opportunity for me to put my reckless behavior to the test, and be able to protect my planet in the best way possible. In my heart, I always knew that my destiny was to serve and protect. One way or another.

My parents had always told me that if democracy falls, then the galaxy inevitably will fall right along with it. So protecting the Noble and Royal Houses on Naboo ensured, in my mind, that democracy would not collapse.

If only it was truly that simple.

Once I had finally been admitted in to the Security Academy at the age of eleven, I discovered that the veins of democracy were woven more intricately than I had originally presumed. Joining the forces helped me mature quickly, though. I had been taught the physical means of providing security, such as utilizing hand-to-hand combat and firing blasters with accurate aim. But I was also instructed on the nuances of political science, to keep myself well attuned in the diplomatic stratagems that could potentially lead to future threats.

My parents couldn't have been prouder of me for my accomplishments, and that gave me the support I needed to know I was pursuing the right thing, despite the general public's recent disapproval. I was with the minority of Nubians who were as dedicated as I was in learning the _necessity_ of understanding violence without ever needing to necessarily resort to it. It was an added layer of safety to preserve our planet's way of life.

After King Veruna's exile, it ironically became even more important to have a protective military presence, since the planet was left vulnerable without a monarch. Veruna's remaining members of his Advisory Council were set up as a temporary parliament while we were still in the absence of a ruler. Political campaigns began to try and find a ruler who the people could put their faith in. I only hoped that a suitable candidate would be among the applicants.

"You should join the campaign, Sabé."

I jerked at the sound of my name, lifting my head up from my desk. "What was that?"

My roommate at the Academy, Myora Deluim, had interrupted my reverie."For the election?" She explained. "I think you'd be a qualified ruler. You've got it where it counts." She was presently engrossed in an article she downloaded from her datapad. I wagered it was a political article, given the context of her passing comment.

I shook my head, bemused at the coincidence that both of our minds were apparently on the same topic. Of course, the campaigns had basically been the only form of gossip that mattered nowadays, so I guess it shouldn't have been too surprising. People were kind of anal when it came to politics. Especially for the tenants in the Academy, since we were all oath-bound to protect whoever the next monarch would be. It would definitely be a plus if the ruler was someone who was amiable at the very least.

I laughed at Myora's statement. "Myora, I may be thirteen years old, but I have the tantrum of a toddler. You know that all too well. Not to mention, society isn't exactly charitable to the career I'm pursuing in any case. I kind of doubt that my resumé would impress the public."

Myora shrugged dismissively, idly twirling her finger around her blonde haphazard braid she had draped on her shoulder. "The Royal Security still abides by tradition. Besides, you have more tenacity and passion than twelve politicians. You could pull it off. I know pretty much everybody here in the Academy would have your vote."

I was flattered by her comment, but at the same time, I knew politics wasn't a route I wanted to be directly a part of. Corruption was a greater risk for a politician than it was for a protector. I took the compliment for what it was, but no further. "I'm honored that you think so."

I couldn't resist adding: "But you forget that I am also a very sore loser. I would have stupid rivalries against people like Yané. I say stupid, because Yané is way better suited for the task anyway. I'm aspiring to be a member of the Palace Guard, but Yané is just a matter of months away from ranking into the _Honor Guard_. Which means she knows more about the niceties of diplomacy than I do. And she's _younger_ than me. Which makes the disappointment on my end even worse," I simmered down from my lighthearted rant. "But, she is a very worthy candidate just the same. She has my vote at least."

Myora raised an eyebrow in amusement. I knew she wasn't done teasing me yet. "I don't know, Queen _Sabé Declarina Evoria_ has a rather nice ring to it," Myora said dramatically.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "It sounds too _delicate_. Definitely not a good reflection of my character. And that is all the more reason for me _not_ to be a ruler. I'm better suited as the backbone of security."

"Oh, suit yourself," Myora gave up, rolling her eyes playfully. "But I'm inclined to tell you that you don't give yourself nearly enough credit where it's due."

I pondered Myora's words for a moment, trying to imagine myself in the heavy regalia of royalty. My face covered with heavy layers of paint; standing refined with poise and grace...uncontrollably, I let out a very unladylike eruption of laughter, with a snort to prelude.

Myora lifted her gaze from her datapad in surprise and turned her green eyes my direction, looking directly at my face for the first time since she first spoke.

"I think you give me _too_ much credit," I heaved between laughs. Myora's brows quipped downward in confusion.

"I just...imagined myself...in Royal get-up!" I explained, clarifying that I wasn't mocking her in any way, so much as I was just mocking myself.

Myora's face cleared and she was soon laughing just as uproariously as I was. "Okay, maybe you're right. I couldn't possibly imagine you in a dress, much less a _headdress_."

"Unless the headdress doubled as a weapon, I don't think I'd be inclined to wear it," I agreed. We faltered back into a comfortable silence. I turned back to my paper. I was a mere matter of sentences away from completing my explanatory term paper discussing the economic hazards of bio-weaponry...I even added a few paragraphs discussing the consequences of the Blue Shadow Virus for good measure. But now that I had the comical image in my head of myself dressed up like an ornate corpse...Well, sounding intelligent was just no longer an option. Homework could wait.

I got up from my desk and plopped onto my bed across the way, letting my head hang over the side of the mattress. I kicked my feet up against the wall, allowing my spine to stretch and relax after being slouched in front of a datapad for an extended period of time. "So, we got any new candidates for the campaign? Since we're on that topic."

Myora skimmed through the article again. "Well, aside from Yané, Parin and Jhuliara...we have two new candidates that qualified for the political race: Kasaré Pheltorin and Padmé Naberrie."

"Hmm," I considered. Kasaré was a not so distant cousin of Ars Veruna. She certainly had courage, being willing to enter the race even after her relative's scorching scandal. I had to give her points for that. A lot of people would probably make uneducated votes against her simply because of her relations. "Who is Padmé?" I asked. She was unfamiliar to me.

"She's a part of an esteemed noble family here on Naboo."

"Then way am I wracking my brains trying to figure out who she is?" I grumbled.

"She's in the House of Naberrie...her parents are a part of the Refugee Relief Movement on Coruscant, if that rings any bells."

Oooohhhh. I at least was aware of _that_. "Well, this Naberrie girl is certainly a more viable option than Kasaré or Parin. She at least seems to have a selfless and humble upbringing, despite her nobility."

Myora nodded in silent agreement, still analyzing the article.

"How old is she?" I wondered.

"Hmm? Oh, her background folio says that she's eleven." I jotted a mental tally. Yané was still the youngest, at nine years old, and Kasaré was the eldest, at about nineteen. I was surprised at the balance in the age range. Not that Naboo favored age when it came to voting. It was the level of intelligence and maturity that made the biggest impression on voters. Prodigies were fairly common in Naboo. We were one of the few planets in the Mid Rim that had such sky-rocketing statistics with gifted children. I, unfortunately, was no exception. Speaking of which...

"What are Naberrie's intel credentials?"

Myora huffed, offering me her datapad "Are you sure you don't want to just read it yourself?"

I realized that I was beginning to annoy her. "No, no, that's alright. I'll make this my last question, I promise," I apologized.

Myora graciously read the paragraph that answered my question: " 'While it was originally the suggestion of her parents that convinced Padmé Naberrie to enter the political race, in no way does it undermine the devout passion she has for putting a foot in the doorway of legislation. By the age of eight, Naberrie had entered into the Legislative Youth Program, and now currently meets the rank of Apprentice Legislator. Her rapid growth in political insight and knowledge has placed her well ahead of her time, rivaling in capacity to that of the late Queen Jarma Phiscotta in the early generations of the monarchy.'"

Basically, she just put all the other candidates to absolute shame.

I whistled slowly. That was an impressive feat. And quite a mouthful of high praise from the writer of the article. Since I hadn't read the entire article, I had no idea if the author expressed any bias or not. But the facts still stood. Padmé was a prodigy of a finer cloth. It looks like Yané may actually have some real competition in the campaign. With Naberrie in the picture, I knew _I_ would never stand a chance. And Kasaré? She didn't stand a chance either. No matter how impressive Naberrie's education looked, I still kept my fingers crossed for Yané just the same. She _was_ my friend after all. And loyalty was my strongest trait, so it would be best to make use out of it.

My contemplations were cut short when a gentle, muted alarm sang three tolls, with our plasma light blinking softly in time with it. After the third toll, the light dimmed three shades darker. We were being notified of our bedtime curfew. The light would stay dimmed for five minutes to allow everyone to settle in before lights out. I reached up to my feet, which were still more or less splayed inelegantly against the wall, and unbuckled the laces of my leather boots. I got a little lightheaded from having my head tipped over for so long, but I wasn't horribly fazed by it. After tossing my shoes on to the floor, I squared myself on my bed and settled beneath the covers.

Myora turned off her datapad and placed it on her bedside. She elicited a disgusted cough. "You know I don't like it when you do that," she griped, displeased at the smell of my shoes that were now wafting my footy scent near her vicinity like a toxic perfume.

I giggled impishly into my pillow.

Myora nudged the shoes back to my side of the room and placed one of my articles of clothing over the soles, trying to contain the smell. "You're such a slob..." she chastised.

"Yeah, but if you never had me in your life, you'd never learn to let loose a little bit."

"Well, unlike you prodigies, I actually have to work hard to keep up with you all in order to get into a job of my choice. So...I can't afford to laze about like you do." Myora said, with a twinge of bitterness in her tone.

I went and touched a nerve on that one. It wasn't intentional at all on my part. "I'm sorry, Myo. I was just trying to be genial."

Myora sighed resignedly, "Its all right. I'm just stressed for the Fourth Year Challenges, is all. My name hasn't been called yet, and I've been a little tense about it."

Sometimes, it was easy for me to forget that Myora was two years older than me. She happened to be just a little shorter than me as well though, which didn't help her cause. I was always tall for my age; lanky and boyishly scrawny, whereas Myora was a bit more compact. But as far as all of the physical exertion that went with the job description in Security, Myora was ideal. She had been working exceedingly hard to work her way to the point of readiness for the Fourth Year Challenges. Her prowess was admirable on the field. I had no doubt that she would qualify for a factional placement.

Myora slipped back into bed, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. "I just hope they don't call for me in the middle of the night. Day shifts are much nicer."

I concurred, then guiltily turned over on my bed, deciding it was best to just let Myora get what sleep she could, just in case. The plasma light finally drifted into darkness, and my consciousness drifted shortly after. I didn't expect to be plagued by nightmares, but I found it difficult to avoid them once they took over:

_Shadows loom in my head, like silhouettes dancing against a weathered tapestry. Tribal and savage, they taunt me in a menacing ritual._

_A placid figure with the Royal face paint gazes in the forefront of my mind, emitting a sense of gravitas that makes my stomach churn in dread._

_A sudden hum of light intercedes my line of vision, penetrating the darkness indefinitely. A haunting cry ricochets in the scene, chilling me to the bone._

_The scene changes._

_I am in Naboo, or some dreamlike variant of it. I am overlooking a lake at a dock. I gaze down at my reflection and see a stranger in my stead, holding an alien child. Both cast somber expressions my way._

_Then, wraith-like hands spring up from the depths and pull me under into the—desert? Nothing but sand for miles and miles. Seemingly endless._

_Mummies cart me down the path, I am bound to a disheveled, mutilated corpse. I turn the corpse around to see the face and find my own._

_The sound of my name echoes with escalating volume._

_A chant._

_A morbid incantation..._

_Sabé Evoria...Sabé Evoria..._

"Sabé Evoria. Your presence is required in Training room 1138-C."

I woke with a cold sweat. The room was still cloaked in the darkness of the night. It took a few moments for my mind to readjust to the return of reality. The images from my dream still weaved in and out in my mind, like wisps of smoke, before fading back into nothingness.

I gave a silent shudder, collecting myself from the raw fright of my nightmares. Once my mind returned to clarity, I turned in search of the noise that wakened me. My school-owned comm link was blinking urgently, with the message continuing to repeat.

" _...Training room 1138-C."_

Wait a minute.

That was the room for the Fourth Year Challenges. I was just a Second Year. In no way was I qualified to take part. Not yet at least. I frowned, perplexed. Was I still dreaming, perhaps? I turned and faced Myora. She apparently had awoken to the alarm before I did. She was already sitting up in bed, her eyes large and gleaming in the muted darkness. She was so stunned, she seemed unable to move.

"D'you know what this could possibly mean?" I asked. Myora shook her head wordlessly. I wasn't sure if what she was feeling was apprehension, or jealousy. Either way, I empathized her unsettled demeanor. I just received a premature summoning that she had been waiting for weeks to get.

"You need to go," Myora stated, her voice hushed. "They don't approve of tardiness. Even if this is just a fluke in the computer system, you should still go over and tell them as much."

I nodded and grabbed my equipment—I donned my leather vest, slipped khakis over my pajama pants, and put my leather boots back on. My long brown hair was probably disheveled from the abuse of sleep. Not bothering to brush my hair, I instead wrapped a coil around it to keep it all contained. Wasting no more time than I had already, I grabbed my comm link and darted out of the room, eager to unravel this curious mystery.

"I'll let you know what I find out," I called back to Myora as I exited.

 

* * *

 

 

_**Minutes later...** _

"You're late," an unknown voice intoned as I skidded to a stop in the gray, boxed in antechamber of room 1138-C. "Not exactly a promising start." The voice belonged to a stern, upright looking man. I didn't recognize him, but I did recognize his uniform. He was a member of the Palace Guard. The very field I wished to pursue.

"I apologize," I said, lowering my gaze. "But I think there was some sort of mistake. I am currently ineligible to participate in the Fourth Year Challenge. I'm only halfway through my Second Year. I do not understand how this complication could have occurred, but I—"

"No, no. Calling you here was entirely intentional," the man assured me.

I halted all speech. I was brought here deliberately? But...why?

"Mi...might I inquire as to why this is the case?" I asked, struggling to find my voice.

The man conveniently deflected my question, activating an expensive looking model of a datapad. "Your grade reports here have you labeled off the charts with your daily defense examinations...Your educative staff have indicated a stellar consistency in your developmental comprehension, and your profile form details just how tenacious you are in both your desire to learn, and to defend." he glanced back at me, as if to seek my confirmation that the information was accurate.

I nodded in affirmation. I had often been told my skills were of an exceptional variety. What point was this Palace Guard trying to make, in any case? I asked him as much.

"I am Captain Panaka. I have been appointed by the Cabinet members to search for a prestige ensemble of gifted youths who exceed the qualifications in all areas of education, but show an unwavering loyalty to the throne. Your abilities have captured my attention, and I would like to see them in action. As a sort of...experimentation, if you will."

"What exactly are you recruiting me for? I'm certain that you wouldn't tour the planet to see prodigies like me show off just for your idle enjoyment."

Panaka gave a small growl of disapproval for my sass, and handed the datapad back to a staff member in the Academy who timidly flanked behind him. Panaka then proceeded to cross his arms. For some reason, the gesture made me think of a cobra flaring its hood in order to look intimidating. I bit my lip to keep from giggling at the thought of the stuffy Guard as a scaly, unintelligent alien.

"I am attempting to turn a legend back into a reality," he said.

All right, that sure captured my attention. Panaka seemed to note my sudden interest, and gave a self-satisfactory smile—probably a rare expression for him—before continuing: "How familiar are you with the Order of Sanctuary?"

"They were a secret society run entirely by warrior women in the ancient days of Naboo...That's about the extent of my knowledge." My stand-offish behavior disintegrated at the thought of where Panaka was leading this. I almost couldn't believe my ears. Could this be where my destiny was leading me? This field far exceeded any form of heroic protection I could offer for the future monarchy as a member of the Palace Guard.

"The Order had existed for a time, up until their mysterious disappearance during the reign of Queen Minrota during the final days before the extinction of the Sith. Now our situation is growing dire, and our Royals needs a new level of security—A level of protection so superior, and confidential, that the People won't know about it to be able to deride and overthrow it. It's the best way to both maintain the peace, and secure an elite team of warriors to secretly guard and bear watch on the Royal representation on our planet."

"And you think I'm qualified?" I breathed, entranced at the Captain's words.

"Well, that remains to be seen." Panaka arched an eyebrow.

I tried not to be miffed at the condescension in his tone. "What must I do?"

"Follow me into the training room, and you can show me what you're made of."

My heart began to speed up a little bit in anticipation. Behind that door lay the opportunities that I could use to prove to Panaka my worth. I had waited my whole life to be able to face the last thing that stood between me and my dream. The ever-silent staff member opened the door to allow me and Panaka to enter.

When we entered the room, it was pitch black. I waited a few seconds, expecting the lights to turn on. Or for Panaka to instruct me. Or for _something_ to happen.

"All right, so what needs—AGH!" I was cut short by an unexpected thrash from behind me. I saw sparks behind my eyes, and I was blinded by the sudden pain. The whip felt too powerful to be wielded by human strength. And the only person who would conceivably be behind me was the sheepish staff member.

I swerved in surprise, trying to find my attacker. The door had already closed, and the room was so dark that my eyes refused to adjust and let me see anything. Blindly, I had to maneuver to find my antagonist. The thrash hit me again, this time from the side.

This time, I could see the electric current rippling through the length of the whip. Wasting no time, I took advantage of the hint of light that was briefly provided for me, and snagged the end of the whip.

I believe retaliation was in order.

Fluidly, I curled my arm to let the whip wrap around my wrist, and I yanked it towards me, attempting to force my attacker to stumble nearer my direction. The figure, whatever it was, didn't budge. This meant that I was the lighter and more agile. I would use that to my advantage.

And inevitably, I did. The force of my tug instead brought me towards the attacker. I lifted my legs and prepared to kick towards the center of where the whip was being grasped. The light from the electricity sparked and faltered into nonexistence as I made my first blow.

It was a success. I felt the solid middle of my attacker grunt in pain and try to reestablish his footing.

I wasn't even able to release the first whip when I was suddenly struck again from behind, but from a different source altogether. Ignoring the pain to the best of my ability, I used my spare arm to catch the other whip and repeat what I did to the former. The tugging on both ends did me no good, save for the first one I attacked. I had hit him hard enough that he still hadn't fully recovered by the time I tugged again. He had stumbled forward. I leaped up and kicked again, pointing both heels in opposite directions to try and incapacitate both at once. The first one faltered, and nearly dragged me down with him.

I was about to land on my feet, but the floor suddenly didn't exist, as though it got pulled from under me like a trap door. My stomach dropped when I fell further than I had expected I would. My bearings were distorted again. My fall served as the whips' indication of a thrash, so soon I was hanging suspended from the trapdoor's entrance. Now the ceiling. The electric charges started coursing through my body unforgivably. I let out a scream, unable to block the pain. Swiftly, I released my grip from the whips. My hands felt slashed and burnt from the cables.

The pain was blinding, but I pushed the rawness of my feeling to the side, I had a battle to finish. I heard the cracking of the whips from above me. I looked up and saw their flickering lights. That was all I needed to get an idea of the size and distance of the trapdoor. I jumped up and clung to the edge, out of the line of fire when the whips descended to where I just was.

Darkness took over again, and I hoisted myself up, prepared to beat these mocking villains, whoever they were.

Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, even though I was probably reacting faster than I ever had before. This was my first time battling two unseen enemies. Panaka wasn't kidding when he said my talents "remain to be seen." I laughed at the dark humor of my situation.

"This is the best you could do, Panaka? I'm _shocked_ ," I joked sarcastically as I reacted to another whip being electrically activated. This time, I ran underneath its length, using it as a trail to lead me to my attacker.

Finally, success: I blindly found the pressure point at his wrist—which felt surprisingly thick—releasing the weapon from his grasp. I slashed the whip repeatedly at my opponent, waiting for him to weaken. I felt like a tamer of beasts in a Nubian circus. Being the bearer of the power felt so much nicer than being a victim of it. And with a satisfying thud, the first villain was fallen.

The other one was suddenly elusive, not daring to give away its position while it stood on equal fighting terms with me. I walked tentatively, minding my step, so as not to fall in the trap door again. I kept thrashing the whip every so often to let the light navigate me, and to intimidate my foe.

Suddenly, I was tripped by my opponent. He came from behind, knowing to steer clear from my line of vision. This one was craftier than my first opponent. I fell forward. The hardness of my fall knocked my weapon off my hands, and the unseen foe tied me at the ankles with his whip. The electric charge did its painful trick of trade once again, and I was getting too fatigued to want to fight back the pain. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my body seized in accordance to the will of the weapon.

My options were beginning to run out. I felt my opponent start to tug at my bonds. I tugged back, using every last ounce of strength that I had to return the battle to my favor.

The lights suddenly blared to florescent life, and I was blinded and disoriented from the swift change. I covered my eyes to block out the unwelcome light. My opponent was surprised by the change too, because I felt his grip loosen. Squinting my eyes shut to avoid the excruciating brightness, I curled my legs into my body and quickly attempted to undo the binding on my ankles.

As quickly as there was light, it was dark again. My eyes were in pain with the constant light shift. The darkness suddenly felt more blinding than before. The bindings wouldn't give, but I felt my opponent blindly trying to reassert his dominance. Just as clumsily, I kicked my bound legs forward, trying to topple my enemy. My action caused the whip to react again, this time damaging both myself and my target. The light was useless in helping me see this time, since my eyes were still figuring out if they should dilate or not. My opponent gave a thud on the ground similar to his counterpart's, signifying to me that he had fallen.

As far as I knew, I had just won.

Swiftly, I removed my shoes to try and slip my feet through my binding. I was successful. The florescent lights were activated again, but this time they lit up slowly, much to my delight and relief. My eyes were more successful in adjusting permanently to my surroundings.

I noted that my enemies were two Weequays. Spitefully, I took my boots and shoved them on their unflattering faces. "If _that_ foul stench doesn't knock you out, I don't know what will," I grouched.

I stood up and walked a little awkwardly and clumsily towards Panaka, who had lowered himself from the upper observation room. The training room seemed a lot bigger than I thought it was. I was feeling increasingly light-headed, but I ignored the feeling as best I could.

"So," I panted. "Do I pass?"

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two years pass since Sabé's first exchange with Panaka. We get a glimpse of her life whilst in the Order of the Sanctuary, and we see her meet Padmé and the rest of her royal cadre during the final proceedings of the election process.

**33 BBY**

_**Outskirts of Naboo** _

_Breathe, Sabé. Find your center._

I exhaled slowly, readying myself for my next volley. Eirtaé smugly twirled her fighting staff, and pounded the end of the stick into the earth, as though she was staking her claim on victory. "You would be much better off just giving up at this point, Sabé," She smirked, her husky voice further emanating her sense of superiority.

I glared at her. "Oh, I don't think so." I asserted my battle stance, poised and ready to attack. "When I'm done with you, you'll wish you'd never provoked me."

"I don't know, I'm hearing a lot of talk, but not seeing enough action."

"I'll give you 'action,'" I retorted, leaping into an aggressive offense. I swung my staff in a low angle, aiming for her knees. Eirtaé dodged my blow in a back flip, and landed gracefully back on the ground. She gave a return thrust, staking the point of her staff towards my middle. Grunting, I swerved out of the way to avoid the full force of the blow. Unfortunately, I wasn't _quite_ fast enough. A lovely bruise would probably form on my stomach for that.

"I'm waiting to be impressed," said Eirtaé, smiling.

Oh, of all the nerve... "I'm just throwing you for a turn," I bluffed. "You haven't seen me at my worst."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure this _is_ your worst, dear," Eirtaé swung at me again and I parried her attack, raising my staff quickly against hers. Leave it to Eirtaé to twist my words into a different connotation. She was originally pursuing a career as a lawyer before Panaka found her and brought her to the Sanctuary.

I wrenched my staff to the side, attempting to loosen Eirtaé's grip on her own staff. When that didn't work, I pushed forward, keeping her in the defensive formation. "Well, prepare to be surprised. I'm not finished with you yet."

Eirtaé's smile never faded. But a gleam of mischief sparkled behind her eyes, and I knew I was in for it. Eirtaé grabbed my staff and wrenched both weapons towards me, attempting to disrupt my balance. It worked. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, still stubbornly clinging to my weapon. Eirtaé, never releasing her grip, proceeded with an airborne cartwheel over my fallen form. With our staffs still intersected, I stood up and broke her trajectory. She recovered by spreading her legs as she descended, reestablishing her balance as soon as she hit the ground. She released one hand and tried to spike her swing down to my head. Once again, I blocked her. I was back in the defensive, which wasn't exactly the position I preferred to be in. I blew some stray hairs away from my face, strategizing my next move.

"Give up yet?" Eirtaé asked. Though she tried to hide it, her breathing was beginning to grow labored. The flourish of her martial skills were becoming a weak point. She exercised them well, but after awhile, they began to take their toll.

I took advantage of this and gave a secret smile. I then proceeded with a surprising retaliation: evasive maneuvering. Eirtaé's surprise was evident on her face when I lowered myself to the ground and slipped past her. She stumbled forward, no longer anchored to my opposing pressure. As she stumbled, I planted my hands on the ground and swept my leg into an abrasive kick at her ankles. When my attack followed through, Eirtaé lost complete balance and fell hard onto the turf. I seized the moment of her fall to regain the higher ground. Eirtaé swerved to face me, quickly attempting to hedge my impending onslaught. She didn't react quickly enough. I planted one foot on her fallen staff as she reached for it, and tucked the end of my own staff at her neck.

I smiled playfully at her, removing my foot from its hold on her staff. Setting my own weapon aside, I offered her my hand and helped her up.

"I honestly didn't think you would win that round," she said as I hoisted her up. "You were resorting to basic fundamental exercises. I thought for sure that I had you."

I laughed genially. "While martial prowess can be a superior tactic, it also becomes predictable. You were tiring faster. The best chance I had at beating you was appearing predictable as well. Then when you breached exhaustion, I could deviate from my initial strategy."

Eirtaé refastened her platinum blonde hair with her hair tie. "Duly noted. I'll take your insight into consideration. But martial arts has always been my niche, so don't expect me to be _too_ cut and dry. You may one day end up taking it for granted, and then that will be _your_ downfall."

I bowed my head humbly in thanks. "I will also bear that in mind for future reference."

"Just don't plan on letting this victory get to your head," Eirtaé teased lightly. "After all, I still outscore you in the long run."

"Well, that's what makes my victory so satisfying," I replied. "Think about how often I _do_ win against you. It's a rare occurrence for someone at my level."

Even after two years, I was still surprised as to just how comfortable I'd grown in my new surroundings. The Order was nothing like the Academy; and my physical capabilities were constantly being pushed to the limit. The Order provided a whole new level of strenuous training. But despite their high standards, the Order never seemed to have a shortage incoming trainees. The program that Panaka had pioneered was a lot larger than I originally thought it would be. Every day, I was meeting a new recruit. It reminded me that even though our planet was smaller than most, it still had a great amount to be proud of. We were a nonviolent people, but we were still a strong people.

Eirtaé had joined the Order of Sanctuary shortly before I had, and she was more than willing to show me the ropes. We were very similar in age and height, so it made us excellent sparring partners, and through our training sessions, we grew to become very good friends.

A hologram appeared in the center of the training field, displaying the stern countenance of Captain Panaka. His hands were folded behind his back authoritatively. "May I have your attention, please," he requested, his voice as gruff and unfriendly as ever.

Everybody in the field put their sparring to a standstill and regarded Panaka's hologram with interest. Our holovids were on a secure channel limited solely to the base itself; no outside source to could either receive or forward transmissions. Panaka was only a recruiter, so he didn't make direct visits very often. Seeing him in a hologram meant that not only was he present at the base, but also had important reasons to be here.

"As you all may know by now, the political campaign for Naboo has reached the final days of the election process. Each of the candidates have been promoted to a premature royal status. The Cabinet members have graciously invited the members of this establishment to join them at the Palace of Theed tomorrow night to celebrate the success of the remaining candidates. Attendance is mandatory. Added security is now a priority as the political tensions begin to rise, and you are all the strongest invisible security force that we have. Invitations will be forwarded to each of you by protocol droids after your dismissal from dinner, and further details of your expectations will be provided. Best wishes to your future endeavors. Panaka out." His hologram flickered back into nonexistence.

Eirtaé and I exchanged glances.

"Wow," she remarked.

The news was exciting, to say the least. But I think what had me more excited was that we were finally permitted an evening away from the premises.

"The acknowledgment of royal status means that the races are already starting to draw to a close." I said, feeling the excitement sweep through me.

"It doesn't mean that the rivalries are, though," Eirtaé, pointed out. "This may be a cause for celebration, but there's still tensions and political rebuffs taking place. I have a feeling that the Cabinet only wanted our presence to ensure that no severe outbreaks would occur and taint the system."

"Well, that's what we've been bred to do, isn't it?"

"Undeniably," Eirtaé agreed. "I'm just saying that there is a legitimate reason that the invitation has been extended to us, and it would be best not to let our excitement blind us from that."

I arched an eyebrow. What a square she was. In some ways, she reminded me of Myora.

Dear Myora...I wonder what she was up to nowadays? I hadn't been permitted to contact her since I'd left the Academy. She didn't even know what I was currently studying. The thought saddened me a bit, but I refused to let it short-sight my eagerness in partying at the Palace.

"Be that as it may," I resolved, "I'm still going hunt down a protocol droid so that I can receive my personal invite. Care to join me?"

Eirtaé rolled her eyes at my casual dismissal of her reminder, and she linked arms with me as we made our way down to the central building.

"Well, at the very least, we have a reasonable excuse to put our etiquette training into practice," Eirtaé allowed.

I groaned. Somehow, I had managed to (deliberately) forget that, in this line of work, etiquette was a prerequisite to making a public appearance.

Blast. Suddenly tomorrow evening sounded significantly less exciting.

 

* * *

 

**The following day**

_**Grand Palace of Theed, Naboo** _

While I had more or less phased out of my tomboy stage over the years, I still had a general disapproval on the concept of dresses. The obnoxious drapery proved to be quite inconvenient in my experience.

It was even more inconvenient for me now that I had a weapon strapped parasitically to my leg. I wasn't used to hiding a Q2 blaster pistol on my person. It was crafted to be portable and easily concealed, but I definitely wasn't used to having it holstered to me in such a unique fashion. I was assured by Eirtaé that we likely wouldn't need to use them. Yet the precaution remained ever pertinent. I would just have to learn to get used to it, I suppose. It's a good thing that I at least preferred weapons.

I had never been inside the Palace of Theed before, so it was unsurprising that I had been utterly enraptured at the sight of it from the very second I set foot into it. I was completely mesmerized at the sight of its glory. Elegant chandeliers were suspended from high, opulent ceilings, and the architecture as a whole had a very neo-classical look to it.

Eirtaé giggled at my reaction. She looped her arm around mine as we walked along the hall. "You might want to look for your jaw. I'm pretty sure you dropped it somewhere in the front of the building."

"Oh, shut it," I replied, still agape at my surroundings.

Eirtaé laughed again "I'd like to, but since you dropped your jaw, I'm fairly certain that I'll have a hard time being able to 'shut it,' as you say."

I guess I did ask for that one, didn't I? I gave Eirtaé an affectionate jab in the ribcage as punishment for teasing me.

Once we neared the entrance to the ballroom, my awe shifted, and I suddenly grew self conscious. I realized that nobility was too far out of my league. I was trained to act as such with ease, but it didn't mean that I was necessarily _adept_ at it. All that I was taught and prepared for suddenly escaped and left my mind in the void. Knowing etiquette is drastically different from actually being able to carry it out. I hoped I wouldn't shame myself...or the Order. Of course, my gaping fish impression I made a few minutes ago probably wasn't a good start to playing the part in the first place.

"Welcome, members of the Sanctuary," a lofty voice exclaimed from the top of the grand ivory stairwell. Everyone turned to face the source of the greeting. "I am Lufta Shif," she said, "the education adviser in the Royal Cabinet."

She was undoubtedly a resident of the Palace. Her outfit alone was evidence of that: It was a shade of pale lavender, with gleaming pearls dancing elegantly along the fabric. Lufta didn't look old, so much as seasoned with experience. Her hair retained a golden blonde color, and her eyes were an icy blue, giving her beauty a flare of severity. Her demeanor was completely gentle, though, from what I could tell. She had her arms spread extravagantly in salutation, and her eyes were framed with smile-induced wrinkles.

"We hope you enjoy your time here this evening," she continued with her grandiose introduction. "We have much in store for you, and much to prepare. Now if you would, follow me this way, and we'll get started."

Great. More 'preparation.' I was really beginning to despise that word.

Silently, me and my fellow peers followed behind the Lady Shif. It wasn't towards the ballroom, where we had initially presumed we'd be, but instead, we traveled up the stairs with her to the next floor level. The plasma energy lights were dimmer up here, since no festivities were being held in this sector. But the grandeur of the Palace still failed to escape my notice. We were led into an office chamber off to the side of the hall. A strict line of the Palace Guard were along the side of the doorway that we were entering. I cast a confused glance back to Eirtaé. She shrugged, as confused as I was. She didn't seem to mind the detour like I did, though.

"Please, be seated," Lufta gestured the array of lush furniture that faced a lone desk—presumably hers. We all obliged her. It felt like we were attending a seminar. Her office was enormous, and there were so many of us there. I sat next to Eirtaé, my arm still linked to hers.

"And now to business," Lufta said, moving gracefully towards her desk.

Business? _Why even bother inviting us to a gala, if all we're going to do is be cooped up in some foolish business meeting?_ I thought begrudgingly.

"Of those of you who were called to join us this evening, we felt it pertinent to assign the more advanced members to their royal counterpart tonight, and meet them at the gala. Now granted, not all of you will be provided with a retinue this evening, but we do hope those of you not called out tonight will still enjoy the pleasantries of the celebration. We owe you at least that much, for all the dedication you've put into making our society that much more protected. "

My begrudging feelings suddenly evaporated. I grew anxious. Retinues were already being assigned?

"Sabé?" Eirtaé whispered. I looked over to her, and she pointed her gaze at her arm...that is to say, _my_ arm that happened to be squeezing the life out of her own.

"Oh. Sorry," I said, releasing my grip.

"With that said," Lufta continued, "I'll start by calling up the retinue for Princess Kasaré Pheltorin Veruna."

I looked up in surprise. Kasaré kept her uncle's royal surname for her own? That was certainly gutsy of her. I couldn't help wondering if she was _trying_ to get out of the election. Every political move she made had made me assume that she'd later regret her decisions. Yet, she'd lasted this long, so support was certainly coming _somewhere._

Shifa cleared her throat, started reading the roster placed on her desk, listing off the names. "Shimalei Karta, Mallé Dhura, Laerdé Miyura, Nya Phashé and Jhuna Cardé. Please step forward, and lieutenant Astaire will escort you to your new mistress."

One by one, each girl stood and went to the front of the room, cross-examining each other to get an indirect idea of what their team dynamics would be like. They looked more or less satisfied with their designation. I noted that they all bore a striking similarity not only to each other, but to the Princess herself as well. I wondered if that was a new method in Panaka's security scheme? Wordlessly, they followed the Palace Guard out of the room, respectfully bowing before Lufta as they passed.

I had to say, on a personal level, I didn't really envy them of their position. Kasaré was already a Princess well before the campaign, thanks to her uncle being head of the monarchy in the first place. I doubted that she would win the election, though. Especially since Governer Bibble—the head of the Cabinet members and of the city of Theed—had such a public distaste for the previous ruler. Kasaré would probably receive no charitable opinion from him, let alone the general public.

Though I had to give her credit for at least lasting this long in the race. I only hoped Kasaré and her new handmaidens would get along. They would have to, since they would be oath-bound to protect each other for an indefinite length of time.

"For Prince Parin Oanad Garré, the retinue shall consist of: Fydor Shallein, Ahbri Mhyu, Marcus Demorné, Huro Vestige, and Honda Telusi. Please step forward, gentlemen."

Unlike the prestige title of 'handmaiden,' the men of our faction were graced with the term 'guardian.' There were significantly fewer of them in number here on Naboo, but that was merely because the male population was of a shorter number than that of the females in the realm of politics and nobility. Each young man rose, also bearing a strong semblance to their new lord. They were all quite handsome in their own respects, too.

Fydor was the only one among them that I was remotely familiar with. We both studied political science at the Academy under the same instructor. I guess he got sent into the Order as well, though I wasn't sure if he had arrived before or after me. Either way, I had to assume he had been around roughly the same amount of time as I had been, since Panaka found us in the same essential building. I remember finding Fydor kind of cute back when I first met him. My attraction for him diminished over the years, but he was still a handsome boy.

Lufta kept trucking through her roster. "For Princess Padmé Naberrie Amidala, her retinue will consist of: Rabé Oephea, Saché Majia, Eirtaé Samyra, Sabé Evoria, and Yané Tesla." I reacted at the sound of my name proceeding Eirtaé's.

How lucky I managed to be! I stood up and walked towards the front desk with Eirtaé. It took me a few seconds to register the final name that Lufta had mentioned.

Yané? How could that be? It was impossible to mask my shock at the sound of her name.

I knew that both she and Jhuliara had been dropped out in the race around last year, due to not gaining enough public support. But Yané was pretty much off the radar after that point.

I guess now I knew why...She joined the Order. And somehow I never managed to find out. Clearly, the organization was _much_ bigger than I first thought. It was a shame I didn't know a great deal sooner. I had missed her company.

I searched for Yané in the room, and managed to lock eyes on her as she walked towards myself and the others. She gave me a small smile, signifying that even after all these years, she still remembered me. She was only eleven years old, but she carried herself with such grace, that I would easily mistake her for a young adult. Politics worked wonders on a person's dignity and presence. I was floored that a girl of her stature and capabilities wasn't taken seriously enough in the duration of the election process. Only one year in the Order—maybe even less than that, and already our superiors in the Order thought her capable of field work? I was struck with both jealousy and ardent admiration.

All five of us lined up in front of Lufta's desk, bowed courteously, and followed our escort out of the room. I figured we would receive a separate briefing after we met our mistress. I hoped I would like Padmé...that she was as good in person as she was described in the media.

Aside from Yané's youth and Eirtaé's silky blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, the rest of me and my fellow handmaidens also looked eerily similar to each other. We had our distinctive differences, of course. And I'm sure our personalities were all vibrantly different as well.

Rabé's was the most obvious to decipher. She had a very meek and mild-mannered temperament, never looking anyone directly in the eye from the moment she stood up in the office chamber. Her eyes were a deep almond brown, and her hair was a silky black, but a light enough black that it complemented my own brown hair and the hair color of the rest of the handmaidens, sans Eirtaé.

Saché on the other hand, seemed very assertive and confident, like Eirtaé. Though I sensed a degree of condescension in her manner as well. I hoped our egos wouldn't collide.

Promptly, we were led outside of Lufta's office. We all filed through the door and followed our guard down the hall.

Our escort filled the awkward silence by explaining what we would be missing in our absence from Lufta's hostessing: "Advisor Shif is going to introduce your remaining peers as 'royal attendants' that are still undergoing training. The idea is to recognize your efforts, but not allow the guests in the ballroom to suspect the full extent of your training," Our Palace escort made a turn to a separate corridor, further away from the ballroom and Lufta's office "The five of you are to meet Princess Amidala in one of the spare Dressing Rooms. There, you are put the facade of your training into action and help her prepare for the celebration."

The Palace Guard had spoken so stiffly about something so trivial, that I had to repress a giggle at the irony. Saché heard my stifle of laughter, and she turned her head my direction, her eyes darkening with disapproval. My good humor died instantly. I lowered my eyes briskly, breaking contact with hers.

All right. So my vibe about condescension was indeed an accurate one. I could already tell that this was going swimmingly. Saché and I may as well already be friends at this point.

It was safe to assume that Amidala's dressing room was the room that had four guards stationed on either side of the doors at the end of the hall. They bid us access upon our arrival,

I hadn't expected the interior of the room to look so...well, _grand._ The furniture was the first thing that struck me upon entering: Ovular white leather sofas and chaise longues were aesthetically placed around the room, and lace curtains flecked with gold thread veiled large windows—also ovular in shape. The room looked expansive, yet comfortable.

Princess Amidala was seated in front of a mahogany vanity table, frustratingly attempting to stylize her long hair on her own. She stilled at the sound of our entrance, noticing our presence through her looking glass. She turned to face us, rising from her chair. The silky material of her dress rippled gently to the floor as she stood. Apparently she decided to dress into her formal attire by herself; without our presence. Given the awkwardness of the situation, I hardly blamed her for it.

"Ah, at last you're all here." A detached smile spread on her face. "Thank you, commander Rajeé, for receiving them," she said to the Palace Guard, by way of dismissal. Rajeé gave a curt bow and swiftly left the room. He didn't seem comfortable in a preparatory room filled with females. I bit my lip, determined not to let a laugh escape me again.

When the door shut behind him, Princess Amidala dropped all pretenses of geniality. With a clear detection of disdain in her tone, she she said "Your matching formal gowns are all in the closet over there, so you can feel free to change. When you are all set, your assistance with my hair would not go amiss." Then, promptly, she sat back down in her chair and returned to her frustrated ministrations on her hair.

The five of us all exchanged glances, thoroughly confused by her biting behavior.

"Well, go on," Amidala prompted, clearly irritated that we weren't immediately following her orders.

Rabé was the first one to brave the unfriendly princess with cordiality: "Your majesty, we come only to serve you, but...shouldn't we at least get to know each other a little bit first?"

I was pleasantly surprised at the lyrical quality of Rabé's voice. The lilt in her accent was pleasurable to the ear. Her soft voice mirrored her quiet temperament.

Amidala's gaze hardened. "I am not inclined to get to know any of you," she said. "I never wanted bodyguards in the first place."

"Why ever not?" I snapped, referring more towards her statement of not wanting to get to know us. I regretted overstepping my bounds like that, but I couldn't hold it back. Eirtaé gave me a look of silent alarm, trying to warn me to back off. I pressed forward, undeterred. "We have given you no reason to be abrasive towards us, apart from merely coming in and being prepared to do our duty."

"That remains to be seen," Amidala countered, irritated with my interjection. "I've yet to see a single one of you submit to my first, _simple_ command."

"Oh, of all the nerve," I exclaimed, stalking towards her. I didn't care about etiquette at this point. There was no need for decorum and flattery if she wasn't going to extend the same gesture.

Eirtaé's eyes widened in shock. "Sabé...?"

I ignored my friend, focusing my wrath on the bratty princess before me. I was supposed to _protect_ this arrogant brat? "What is _exactly_ is your problem? We haven't done anything to deserve this kind of treatment!"

Amidala cast her steely gaze back at me, unafraid of my mockery. "Well, thanks to you, there is now the matter of you trying to impugn on my authority. I for one, simply won't have it. But, if you _must_ know, the presence of you...'handmaidens'...goes against everything I've been vouching for in my campaign."

I was thrown aback. "And you think that _justifies_ your uncivil behavior?"

Amidala rose from her chair again and glared at me, "What right have you to call me 'uncivil,' when you represent the baseness of resorting to _violence_ to ensure protection?"

We were close enough in proximity, that I realized just how similar Amidala and I looked. Even our glare was uncannily similar. I was jarred by the strange feeling that was left in my wake. It was a sickening combination between fascination and disgust. I was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Milady, if I may comment," Eirtaé spoke up—politer than I was being by far, but I could tell she was just as affronted as I was.

Amidala would hear none of it. "No. You are walking hypocrites, the lot of you. You come to me dressed in finery and the inclination to serve. But underneath your submissive guise lays an ensemble of cold-blooded warriors, ready for the chance to jump out and attack when the opportunity arises. In the end, violence is the only thing that conquers a civilization, as far as you seem to be concerned. Your presence is seeping into the very foundations of this planet's political convictions, and your distorting the true nature that we originally strive for as a people."

I was too sickened at her misrepresentation of our Order to let her continue. I clenched my fists at my sides, sorely tempted to cave her face in for her imprudence.

"Milady," Saché spoke up, her tone neutral, "We are not here to overthrow, nor are we here to insinuate our own philosophies and impede tradition. We are here solely to protect, and to serve."

I gritted my teeth. "You know, for being so adamant about resolving things peacefully, you sure are argument-prone."

"I'm not the one who turned this into a face-off," Amidala retorted.

"You provoked it!" I nearly shouted. This girl was unbelievable! I was about to swing my punch, and give her a _real_ face-off, when Yané suddenly appeared and grabbed gently at my arm, trying to pull me away from Amidala's proximity.

" _Regardless_ ," she interjected, "We all have a job to do. Let's at least get through our mandate for the evening, and we'll fully resolve this issue when a time is deemed more appropriate." she directed her gaze at Amidala: "Princess, if you would, please acknowledge the fact that at the moment, being assigned to you entirely beyond our control, as well as yours."

Amidala lifted her chin in indignation, and after a moment, thought better of it, and gave a single nod of consent.

"Thank you," Yané said humbly. "Come, Sabé."

I never stopped glaring at Princess Prissy. But I conceded only for Yané's sake. Shrugging Yané off of me, I stepped back along with my entourage, leaving Amidala alone with her vanity—Excuse me: _at_ her vanity.

 

* * *

 

_**Later, the same evening** _

I felt stained in my first handmaiden dress. Every moment I wore it reminded me of who I was serving, and currently, that was a concept that I _really_ didn't want to keep in the forefront of my mind. Being a part of Prissy Amidala's cadre meant that I was limited in where I could venture. From this point forward, I was condemned to be her shadow, a silent companion along with Yané, Eirtaé, Saché, and Rabé.

On that topic, it turned out Saché didn't hold a high opinion of me either, thanks to my little 'display' I put on in the dressing room, according to her. She chastised me thoroughly for what I had done. Her patronizing made me want to argue further, but Yané would have none of it. For being the youngest, she certainly knew how to take control of the situation. She even managed to make Amidala listen to her—and they were political rivals from the start!

Because of my insolent behavior, Amidala wouldn't let me anywhere _near_ her hair. Only Rabé and Yané were permitted to touch her head, and even _then_ Amidala seemed ungrateful.

We all looked like a matched set. Amidala wore a long lavender dress, with a darker shade of purple serving as a sash that draped over her shoulders and behind her back. The material of the sash was bunched at the back, and braced with a golden bodice, laden with intricate designs. In addition, she wore cuffs that matched the bodice. And woven into her hair, was a golden circlet of a gaudy style.

We as handmaidens served as an accentuation of her beauty, meant to provide further contrast in the color scheme to help her extravagance shine above all else. We were given beige gowns of a simpler nature, to help complement the gold of Amidala, and our cowls were of a muted shade of lavender. What I hated about our wardrobe practices was that by acting as the background, our clothes were also ultimately allowing our mistress to be further exposed in the spotlight. If we were meant to protect, then why were we contributing in showing her off?

_Because it is important that we remain more or less unseen, should the need for an attack become a necessity,_ my mind answered, imitated the dry delivery of my etiquette and surveillance instructor at the Order.

The absolute worst part of the job (that I discovered so far) was that talking was kept at an absolute minimum in public proceedings. When we were formulated as an entourage, we moved like one entity. A silent entity. It drove me up the wall. I knew that it was a requirement for the circumstances the job entailed, but being aware of that was different when I suddenly had to endure it. I hoped that I would eventually get used to it. But my impulses desperately wanted talk to Eirtaé, and try to divulge a little bit on her own opinion on our current situation. Mostly, I just wanted to trash-talk Princess Prissy and let off some steam. But I couldn't. I was forced to act mysteriously aloof behind a cowl and a facade.

What made the evening worse was having to put up with listening to Amidala making pleasantries with all of the guests. Greeting after greeting, worthless conversation after worthless conversation...My intensive training made it difficult for me to willingly tune out of her conversation, unfortunately. I was to be her eyes and ears, so that I could be aware of any insinuation.

I got so sick of putting up with it after still feeling so raw with rage at Amidala, that I made just about the biggest mistake I ever could have made in my career:

I slipped away from my entourage.

I knew my absence wouldn't go entirely unnoticed. But I had to make sure that I left at a point in time when no one in the group would be inclined to pay me any mind. And that was most opportune when Amidala decided to converse with one of her political rivals. The surveillance would be amplified from the other handmaidens, just given the context of the conversation that would inevitably be at hand. I had the easiest venue for escape when we were in the midst of walking alongside our rivals. Amidala targeted Kasaré, much to my luck. As both sets of handmaidens sidled alongside each other, I took advantage of the window of time I had to make a getaway.

And get away I did. Eirtaé noticed I had vacated, but by the time she had, I was already making my way through the ballroom. I had removed my cowl from my head, making certain that I deviated from looking identical to my counterparts. There would be no need to arouse suspicion. Sighing with the sweet sensation of release, I began to work my way to the buffet table.

A service droid was present, assuming the responsibility of catering to various guests who passed through. "Might I be of some service?" it asked, its tone detached, but friendly, as was the programing of such droids. I paused, and swept my eyes in a swift perusal of the cuisine. My eyes locked on to a most beautiful sight.

"Actually, if you would, I would like a muja muffin," I requested.

"Most certainly," the droid responded, swiveling its wheeled feet towards my food of choice. It gently placed my muffin on a platter and handed it to me. I just grabbed the muffin, and gave a quick thank you before retreating towards an unoccupied niche in the ballroom. I thought I would be a wallflower for a bit, and just allow myself to enjoy the evening—and my muffin. I savored a moment to smell the tantalizing scent of my favorite treat before taking a bite out of it. The flavor promised to be just as glorious as the smell.

_This_ was freedom. An evening away from the casualties of democratic responsibility. I was disappointed that Lufta enforced the handmaiden responsibilities without allowing us to partake in any of our own fun for the evening. I was fairly certain that I would get pulled from the job for my act of rebellion. But, since I hated who my current charge was, I hoped that if I did end up leaving, that I would at least get reassigned to a more respectable individual. Babysitting Amidala was a nightmare—severe punishment would be a godsend in comparison to putting up with her for the rest of her career.

My bliss was interrupted by the sound of a masculine voice from behind me.

"Rabé?"

I swerved in panic. "What?" I asked, my mouth still in the process of chewing muja muffin. I knew I wasn't Rabé, but his voice caught me entirely by surprise. I was even more surprised at the physical appeal of the man who spoke. I swallowed the last of my muffin, flustered and embarrassed. To believe that I just spoke to an extremely attractive gentleman with my mouth still full of muffin. What a glorious first impression...my conscience kicked me for my idiocy.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the young man apologized. "For a moment I thought you were—"

"Rabé Oephea," I finished for him. I knew his assumption of my identity was entirely an honest mistake, but I didn't blame him for it. After all, the government already decided that we shared a strong resemblance anyway. "I gathered that much. Is she a friend of yours?"

"Yes. In fact, she's my sister," the young man replied. He furrowed his brow in confusion when I supplied her last name. "I take it you know of her as well?"

I nodded. "She is an acquaintance of mine," I answered evasively. We certainly weren't friends yet. Calling her an acquaintance would hopefully keep this...gentleman, whatever his name was, from prying too much into the confidentiality of my relations with Rabé.

"Well, I am most delighted to acquaint myself with my sister's acquaintance." the man said with a flourishing bow. I blushed at his flamboyant salutation. He shared his sister's lilting accent, which made it even more difficult for me to ignore my sudden infatuation.

"The pleasure is all mine, sir," I replied.

"The name is Xarix Oephea," he smiled. "There is no need for formalities with me."

My blush deepened. "I'm Sabé."

"Might I ask why you appear to be unescorted this evening, lady Sabé?"

_Because I myself_ _ **am**_ _an escort...and a lousy one at that,_ I thought to myself. But I wasn't about to tell _him_ that. I deflected the question, lifting my eyebrows in amusement. "I don't prefer formalities either, Xarix. Sabé will do fine."

"Very well, then," Xarix gave a laugh. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, well..." I attempted to improvise. "Let's just say my present company isn't exactly a _favorable_ use of my time."

"Ah, I see," Xarix intoned, seeming to understand, at least on some level, my motivations for isolating myself.

"Sabé, there you are!"

I turned to see Saché striding towards me, her forehead shrouded by the cowl that she seemed so determined to wear with pride. Her tone appeared cordial, but I could detect the traces of sour irritation in her manner.

I groaned. My little escapade was short lived, and now officially over. And I daresay, my dignity was as well.

Saché caught me by surprise me and looped her arm around mine fondly. But behind her pleasant smile, her eyes betrayed her, revealing her obvious reproach. I realized that she was putting up a pretense. Because gods forbid, it would be simply _horrible_ for a Princess of Theed to have handmaidens that disobeyed their mandate from their very first night on duty. Saché wasn't doing this for my sake, but for Princess Prissy.

"Amidala has been worried _sick_ about you after she sent you off on that errand," Saché exclaimed. "Your presence has been sorely missed."

I winced. Now Xarix knew I was a handmaiden—at least, as through the lenses of the public eye. As far as he was concerned, I was now just a member of the waiting staff.

I played along with Saché, nonetheless. I refused to permit her to put me in a position of absolute embarrassment. I may not appreciate my Princess, or my fellow handmaiden. But I _did_ appreciate the code I was trained to honor and abide: Maintain our cover at all costs.

"Saché!" I replied, my voice oozing in false affection. "How wonderful of you to decide to accompany me! I was just on my way back to the coatroom to retrieve our mistress's handbag. As you can see, the buffet table had me a little distracted en route," I laughed idly, lifting my hand to show her my partially eaten muffin.

Saché feigned amusement. "Well, I daresay it's a tragedy that you seem to have more loyalty to your stomach than to that of our mistress's bidding," she laughed in return. I caught the double meaning, and tried to dismiss her subliminal patronization.

I turned to face my new-found friend. "Xarix, if you'll excuse us. It was a privilege meeting you this evening, but I fear I must take my leave now." Xarix's sympathetic, albeit friendly expression showed that he now knew what I meant by my company not being exactly 'favorable.'

Saché stiffened at my informal acknowledgment to the gentleman. "Duty calls," I apologized, walking away with my head held high. In no way would I let Saché succeed in belittling me like that in front of someone. Saché followed closely at my heels.

"I hope to someday be graced by your presence again, Sabé." Xarix called after me. I paused, and inclined my head in response. I hoped so, too.

" _Sabé!"_ Saché hissed, once we were far enough away from listening ears. She sidled up beside me and redirected me to an unoccupied alcove in the corner of the grand room. We would receive no unwanted attention here. "What in the world _possessed_ you to sneak away like that?"

"What?" I defended. "Four handmaidens are more symmetrical than five when flanking a person. I didn't think anybody would notice me being gone. Besides, the Princess has already decided to dislike me, so disappointing her at this point costs me absolutely nothing."

Saché stared at me in shock.

_"Nothing?_ " she repeated, flabbergasted. _"_ Besides your respectability? Your career as a whole? This little adventure of yours just may have cost you _any_ chance at continuing this career. We were trained to take on our role very seriously, and accept all trials that came our way. Princess Amidala's disapproval of our work is merely trivial, and _bearable_ in comparison to other potential circumstances. Why are you so willing to throw away your entire career over something so unimportant? Are you really that selfish?"

"No!" I argued, hating the fact that Saché was right. My pride prevented me from acknowledging that my behavior was in fact, every manner of childish. "It's not about being selfish!"

"Then what else would you define it as?" Saché demanded.

"A passive-aggressive retaliation," I decided. "Prissy Padmé doesn't like our presence? What better way to prove her wrong than to actually follow through with what she initially thought to be a better option in the first place?"

Saché paused, then said sadly "You have a very distorted outlook on justice."

If I thought Saché was disappointed in me before, it was no match to the disappointment I heard from her now. She almost sounded...disheartened, mournful. I couldn't take it. Pity was the worst form of chastisement.

I was completely stung by her statement. I lived and _breathed_ to honor Justice. And yet...indubitably, here I was: caught in the act of perverting the one thing I was meant to uphold.

I dropped my shoulders in defeat. There was no other way to argue my case. My stubbornness would only last as long as I could continue to argue as if I was in the right. In this particular case, I was met every qualification for being in the _wrong_. All that remained was shame for allowing my impulsive behavior to control my actions to this extent. I had no genuine justification to bring to the table. I could fabricate all I liked, but that didn't make my dilemma any less my fault.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "You're right, I was being selfish. I let my anger grow to unacceptable proportions and let it blind me into acting incorrigibly. I was judgmental, and acted foolishly. The fault is my own."

Saché was taken aback at my response. I guess she hadn't expected me to come clean so quickly. Frankly, neither had I. I couldn't tell if my humble apology was driven by shame or compelling desire to be honorable. Probably both. But I had a heavy lenience towards the former.

"I don't think it's me you owe the apology to," Saché said, her tone neutral. This was the first time I didn't hear any ebbing condescension in her tone. I must have impressed her, however temporarily that would last.

My anger flared again, and I stifled it, keeping my opinion of apologizing to the Princess to myself. I merely nodded in understanding. I figured, since I had deflected Saché's antagonism, I may as well take advantage of it while I still could. I lowered my gaze, staring fiercely at my shoes. "Understood," I said.

The curtain that closed off our alcove opened abruptly, and I found myself staring at the barrel of a sleek disruptor pistol. A complete replica of Saché stared back at me, her eyes cool and villainous.

I shifted my eyes towards the other Saché, completely bewildered by this new development. She looked just as horror stricken as I felt.

"If you utter so much as a sound," The intruder threatened, her voice hushed and menacing, "You'll be turned to ash a lot faster than either of you would prefer."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Originally, it was Eirtaé who was a political rival to Padmé in the election process, but I took a creative liberty and made Yané a rival instead. The reason being that I wanted Sabé to meet Eirtaé first, since Eirtaé is the only other handmaiden that canonically shows a stubborn (and bossy) behavior similar to Sabé's. That, and Eirtaé is my second-favorite handmaiden, so I jealously featured her in a scene before any other handmaiden.  
> Also, the 'Cabinet' I speak of is technically the 'Naboo Royal Advisory Council'...But since there is no Royal presence to 'advise' at this point, a Cabinet made more sense at this juncture.


	3. Chapter 3

**THE EARLY DAYS DUET:**   
**BOOK ONE: RESTORING DIPLOMACY**   
_**Chapter Three- Exercising Precaution** _

"What do you want?" I asked, raising my hands slowly in submission. I would be doing myself a huge disservice if I revealed my capacity to fight too prematurely. So long as I allowed my antagonist to think she had a the upper hand, I could probably succeed in negotiating at some level before completely eliminating the threat.

Saché remained silent, still stricken at the sight of what appeared to be an exact copy of herself.

"Be quiet, Amidala," the imposter silenced me, cocking her weapon. "You're worth a hefty sum to me, so you'd best not try anything stupid,"

Interesting. She had me mistaken for Amidala...I suppose our resemblance was stronger than I had previously considered. It was a lucky thing this assassin found me first. I probably had a better chance at neutralizing the situation than Princess Prissy. My mind was already beginning to calculate methods of escape with minimal casualty. It was safe to assume that Saché was doing the same thing.

I mustered every memory of Padmé's mannerisms as I could, to try and maintain my cover. My exposure to Padmé was minimal at best, but I distinctly recalled her indignation when Yané told her and I to back off in the dressing room earlier. I mimicked her for the assassin, lifting my chin in quiet ire. Think like Padmé...I thought to myself. Much easier said than done.

"What exactly do you plan to do with me?" I asked. Saché kept quiet, allowing me to continue looking the part as her superior.

"I have a lethal gun pointed at your head," the assassin snarled. "I would think that much should be obvious."

"My mistake," I replied lightly. "I suppose I just assumed that you would prefer to hold me for ransom—I have my suspicions that people would pay a much heftier sum to ensure that I remained alive."

"Don't try to barter with me. I don't break deals."

"That's a strange sentiment," Saché piped up. "Loyalty would typically be considered contradictory in your line of work."

"Shut up already," she reverted her weapon's aim towards Saché, as a means to silence her.

"How exactly do you plan to get away with this?" I asked, ignoring her threats. Something was keeping her from killing us on the spot, and I wanted to find out what that was.

"In case you hadn't noticed," she replied, "I'm a changeling. Slipping in and out of tricky situations comes as naturally to me as breathing."

"I'm referring to actually committing to your crime" I clarified. "Did the thought never occur to you that your mission may have failed before it even began?" I was pushing the envelope in regarding my cover on that comment, but at least I got the reaction I wanted from her.

She pointed her gun back at me, obvious fear beginning to glimmer behind her eyes. "What are you keeping from me, Princess?" she sneered.

"Absolutely nothing," I assured her.

Well, obviously that was a lie.

I continued, "I'm just surprised that you didn't consider my lack of personal security as an indicator that we were leading you into a trap."

The fire in her eyes showed me that not only had she fallen for my bluff, but now she was the one who felt cornered. She pressed the barrel of her disruptor pistol underneath my chin. "Stop toying with my mind, Princess," she sneered. I almost laughed at her choice of words. She almost made it seem like I was a Jedi or some such.

I felt a tremor in her grasp on the weapon. I realized that she must have been novice in the field of mercenary work. She was no cold blooded killer. Not yet, anyway. The only reason she was stalling was because she didn't have the nerve to strike a person down dead yet. Saché noticed this as well, and used this little giveaway as her cue to wield her Q2 pistol back at the changeling.

"A word of advice when entering the field of villainy," Saché said, "Never stick your guns to loyalty. You would have been better off making a deal with us for a willing ransom. But I guess now we're going to have to turn you in instead."

The assassin snarled in response. One look in her eyes revealed to me exactly what she planned to do next now that we had damaged her pride. Before she could even pull the trigger, I knocked it out of her hands, and pulled out my own pistol, kicking hers to the side. In one fluid motion, I had my arm around her neck with my Q2 pointed at her throat.

"So what do we call you?" I asked. "Just so that we have an accurate name to add onto our criminal record."

The changeling glared at me, raising her hands in surrender. "Zam Wessell," she said, shifting back to her original Clawdite form. "And it looks like I've overstayed my visit." With striking agility, she threw her leg up and kicked me in the face, disorienting me. As her leg came back down and my grip was loosened, she swung her arm towards Saché, popping her Q2 out of her grasp. She began to make a run for it.

I wasn't about to let her go so easily. I pressed forward and grabbed her at her heels, causing her to fall onto the floor, and out of our secluded niche. There was a collective gasp of nearby patrons who noticed the sight of me toppling some foreign stranger to the ground. Zam growled as she tried to wriggle free from my grasp.  
She was definitely still new to her field. Whoever decided to hire a first-timer to assassinate a Princess, was decidedly not getting their money's worth.  
"Will you just give up already?" I spoke through gritted teeth. "You've ID'd yourself, blown your cover in front of numerous witnesses, and are without a weapon. You have no chance of escaping at this point."  
The reality of her situation sank in and her wriggling soon subsided. Finally.

Saché emerged from behind the arras, and pointed her gun back at the bounty hunter. "Get up," she said sternly. I lifted myself from Zam, but kept a firm grasp on her shoulder.

Zam acquiesced and unfurled herself from the floor.

Within an instant, Palace Guards had secured our surroundings, and placed Zam into custody. Saché provided them with the details of Zam's attempt on my—no, sorry, Amidala's life.

Padmé, speak of the devil, decided to glide over and see what the commotion was about.

"It appears that this bounty hunter was hired to assassinate you, Princess," a Palace Guard supplied. "Without the help of your handmaidens, I am almost positive that she would have gotten away with it as well. According to Saché, this Clawdike is a changeling who had disguised herself as one of your entourage members."

Zam's gaze flickered from Padmé's face, to my own. Realization dawned on her and she narrowed her eyes in seething anger. "You...impersonator!" She cried out. "You had me fooled from the start!"

I shrugged innocently "You of all people should understand the benefits of impersonation. Though I wish I could say the same of you. You didn't manage to fool anyone. Especially me."

Maybe I was milking my success a little too much...But it was kind of an invigorating feeling, being able to actually put all of my training into action. And to succeed in it! I was rather proud of my accomplishments for the evening. With my final word, the Palace Guard finally led the not-so-notorious Zam Wessell out of the ballroom.

"Do we know who hired her?" Padmé asked of myself and Saché.

"She wouldn't say," Saché replied. "But I have no doubt that the guards will be able to wheedle an answer from her before the night is over."

"Provided she gets over her 'loyalty' issues," I added.

Padmé nodded, concern lining her brows. "I suppose I stand corrected," she acknowledged. "Perhaps there are benefits to having you girls in my proximity. Tonight was a perfect example of how horrifically wrong it was of me to have preemptively judged you."

I suppose that was the closest we'd get to an apology from her.

"For your recklessness, Sabé, I owe you my life," Padmé said, turning to face me. "I thank you."

I was surprised at Padmé's display of humility. And, admittedly, I was at a little bit of a loss for words. She just thanked me for stupidly rebelling against my mandate? Zam must have hit my head harder than I thought...I sputtered the best response I could: "I live only to protect and serve, milady."

"However," Amidala continued, "Don't think your little escapade remained unnoticed by me. Consequences for your recalcitrance will be dealt with before the evening is done." Padmé gave me a small smile and turned on her heel, walking back to the main event. Silkily, she added "Please be sure to put your cowl back in its rightful position, handmaiden." Her way of saying that the dynamics between the two of us weren't completely altered.

I scowled at the back of her adorned head, but I did as she requested, nonetheless. Dutifully, I realigned myself in my formation with the others. Padmé and I still didn't necessarily have to like each other, but it was refreshing now that we each at least had a new-found respect for each others' jobs. Not that I was entirely looking forward to Prissy's punishment for my act of stupidity. But I guess I could understand where she was coming from now. A little bit.

For the remainder of the evening, I paid extra careful attention to every patron who came to visit her. Every condolence for the attempt on her life, every worthless piece of congratulatory praise for her promotion...I silently analyzed it all, careful to ensure that any future threats would be avoided. And hopefully, in the process, I'd be able to determine who Zam's client could have been. I found that focusing on that made the remainder of the evening far more enjoyable on my end.

All in all, I'd say that for a first day on duty, I didn't do half bad. I think this job was beginning to show promise.

**32 BBY - One Year Later**   
_Theed Palace, Naboo_

Padmé had won her election in a landslide. It turned out that Prissy really had good qualities where they counted. While she had the political inspirations of an idealist, she by far had the better approach for how to actually make a positive difference in the problems that Ars Veruna had left behind.

Kasaré was blown out of the election process months prior, after Zam Wessell finally revealed who her client was. Kasaré insisted that she had nothing to do with the assassination attempt, but the odds were entirely against her in the Galactic Senate's hearing of her case. Chancellor Valorum evicted her from her noble standing, and sent her to exile on the far reaches of Naboo, condemning her to a similar fate to that of her uncle's.

In my personal opinion, the government just wanted a viable excuse to pretend that there was no longer any unseen threat looming over our freshly crowned Queen. Kasaré was just a convenient scapegoat. Now, there certainly was motive for suggesting that she was behind the assassination attempt. And she had proven herself plenty gutsy earlier on as a forerunner for office. But something still hadn't satisfied me on the subject, and I couldn't quite place what was bothering me about it.

Unfortunately, gut instincts don't qualify as ensured evidence. So the best that I could do was either continue stewing on it, or just let it be and continue with what I had been bred to do: Protect my planet, and protect my Queen. Since I wouldn't have been able to come up with anything conclusive for the former, the latter was what I honed in on instead.

Almost daily, my fellow handmaidens and I would practice physical combat on a secret training field that Captain Panaka designed especially for our use. Over time, I had even grown used to being present at galas. Padmé's political position demanded them frequently, especially now that she was the Queen. I had mastered my surveillance techniques in such settings, luckily. Formality no longer fazed me as it once did.

Strangely enough, the Queen received no significant threats since Zam's assassination attempt last year. Naboo was a peace-loving planet for the large part, but I was curious as to why no further attempts were made. Especially since I didn't think Kasaré was the culprit in the first place.

I was on my break alongside Saché and Eirtaé walking the Palace grounds. Rabé and Yané were accompanying the Queen in the throne room while she was handling affairs of state. Prissy didn't need more than two handmaidens present in that environment. So Eirtaé and I decided to get some fresh air. Saché dragged herself along because she had nothing better to do. Even in the course of one year, Saché still didn't seem to trust me entirely. Given the demands of our job, that would have to change. Sooner rather than later.

"Sabé," Panaka called out to me. I groaned. What did I do this time? Rarely did Panaka ever call on me for something positive.

Eirtaé gave me an apologetic smile. "Go on," she said. "Saché and I will wait up."

"No," I said. "You both can keep going. Gods know how long Panaka will take. I can meet up with you later."

"If you insist," Saché said, sounding otherwise uninterested. I shot her a look as she walked forward. Eirtaé shrugged, and followed behind her, giving me a friendly wave.

"Good luck," she called out.

"I'm gonna need it," I muttered, turning towards Panaka. He was walking out past the side entrance of the Palace. "Yes, captain?" I asked as he neared.  
"I have a proposition for you."

I crossed my arms to mask my confusion. "A proposition?"

"Consider it as a form of promotion," Panaka replied, as unhelpful as ever.

"Could you clarify?"

"I've seen your progress in this past year, and I've been thoroughly impressed. You've proven yourself more than worthy to take on a more challenging role in your status as handmaiden."

Okay...he still didn't manage to be clear enough for me. If there was anything Panaka was good at, it was deflecting questions.  
"What exactly are you getting at?" I asked.

"I have been formulating a new approach at the Queen's secret service program. You and Amidala are strikingly similar, in more ways than one. Your physical resemblance goes hand in hand with your other coinciding qualities. There are nothing but benefits in this. Pairing you with the Queen was no coincidence. You and your fellow handmaidens have much to share with Amidala, but you outshine all of your comrades in this respect. So I've decided to make you a primary decoy."

"Decoy?" I echoed loudly, unable to mask my shock. I didn't entirely approve of this.

Panaka shushed me, reminding me of our public surroundings.

I quieted. "Captain, are you sure that's a good idea? There are so many reasons to oppose this."

"I fail to think of any," Panaka countered. I could swear that I heard some amusement in his tone.

"Allow me to list them for you then, sir," I hissed. "First and foremost, acting is hardly my strong point. Yané had aspirations to be a politician, so she'd be much better equipped for such a position. Acting comes with the territory. Second, where would you be hiding Amidala? She has no chance at protecting her own skin if everyone else is now supposed to publicly protect...well, me. It goes against my mandate, sir. I can't be the one being protected."

"Being a decoy is a method of protecting Amidala. The goal is that you become the bait, and Amidala can remain safe and anonymous if a dangerous situation arises. You are one of the toughest women I know, Sabé. I know you are capable of this."

I was flattered, but I still wasn't inclined to fully believe it.

"In regards to Amidala's personal security," Panaka continued, "I am to have her dress as a member of your entourage, and she will also receive training on defensive strategy."

That caught me by surprise. "Amidala? Defensive strategy? But she hates any form of violence. It took her weeks to finally warm up to the idea of having handmaidens following her shadow."

"Believe it or not, learning defense was her idea, not mine." Panaka said.

I was floored.

"I didn't see any harm in refusing her that," he continued. "If anything, as a last resort, that protects her even further. I am going to have her attend training sessions with you and your retinue starting next week, see if we can't establish some genuine trust between the six of you."

"We trust each other!" I argued.

"You trust that you each can do your duty. But you don't trust each other implicitly. And that will be vital when it comes to exchanging those roles of duty, should a need for a decoy arise."

I frowned. I hated that he always had to be right. But I guess there was a reason he was the head of the Palace Guard, after all. He couldn't afford to be wrong.

"In addition, you and Amidala are to attend private sessions wherein you will teach each other various subliminal code messages, and you will learn the mannerisms of the Queen. You will learn what decisions you are eligible to make, and ineligible to make. You will learn more about each other, so that you each can better assume each others' identity. These exercises will commence promptly tomorrow afternoon."

I groaned in protest. "Not more lessons. I'm sixteen! Far too old for more intensive studies."

Panaka growled at my objection. "This isn't about you, and this isn't open for negotiation."

"Yes sir," I mumbled ungratefully. Bonding time with Prissy...Not exactly a past time I wanted to partake in. Especially not on a regular basis. But Panaka had made valid points.

When Zam had me mistaken for Padmé last year, assuming her identity was the only thing that separated that disruptor pistol from Padmé's head.

Protect and serve, I reminded myself. Why did that concept seem to be growing steadily more complicated?

"Sir?" I asked as Panaka turned to leave. He paused and looked back at me over his shoulder.

I hesitated. "What...what exactly prompted the idea for creating a decoy?"

"Oh, the idea has always been a reality. I just didn't expect to have to follow through with it so soon."

"What compelled you to select me sooner?"

It was Panaka's turn to hesitate. "Zam Wessell managed to escape," he said.

"What?" I felt my anger start to swell. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't seem entirely relevant, Sabé."

"NOT RELEVANT?" My voice rose, partially against my will. "She targeted Amidala a year ago! You don't think she won't attempt again?"

"Let me speak, Sabé," Panaka replied, clearly weary with my antics. He gestured to a nearby bench. Glowering, I accompanied him to the seat, plopping myself down beside him. I remained silent.

"There is dispute among the Judiciary court that Amidala wasn't her intended target in the first place."  
I was about to question that ridiculous notion, but obediently stayed silent.

"Wessell escaped with one other prisoner in tow: Doctor Nuvo Vindi. Given the ease of her escape, as well as his, it seems feasible that freeing him was Wessell's initial objective."

"So you're saying that attempting to kill me—I mean, Amidala, was simply a front to enable her escape plot?"  
Panaka nodded. "Yes. That is why I didn't find it pertinent to share with you. Her motives changed, as did ours. Vindi is no real threat, and neither he or Wessell were stupid enough to remain on Naboo. They are far out of our jurisdiction at this point. But we have bigger problems to worry about. Zam's escape reminded me of how crucial a role you played in protecting Amidala all those months ago. That's what had me inclined to establish a decoy in the Queen's secret service."

I bit my lip, deliberating quietly on Panaka's words. I had a bad feeling about Zam Wessell. Something told me that she wasn't done intervening on our affairs yet. It was possible that it was just because of my new-found hatred of her. She pulled off an act better than I did. She pretended to be weak and novice. For all I knew, she even pretended to be fooled that I was Amidala. In the end, her act paid off, and my arrogance ultimately let her get away with her objective. I would not permit my arrogance to get the better of me again. Not when the Queen's life was at stake. Or anyone's, for that matter.

"I will do as you say," I decided, sighing with a hint of reluctance. Part of me still didn't want to do this, but a bigger part of me recognized the importance of agreeing.

"Good," Panaka gently clapped me on the back and rose from the bench. "I expect great things from you, Sabé."

Yeah, no pressure or anything. I buried my face in my hands, letting the gravitas of the situation sink in.

Danger and corruption was unraveling everywhere, and it seemed that the tighter security held its fist to try and prevent it, the more that corruption continued to slip through our fingers. Zam would probably be the first of many future threats.

The biggest problem I saw was that I initially had my suspicions about Zam's ulterior motives, but I never spoke up about them, because I didn't have anything to justify my notions.

But my conscience was really rubbed the wrong way when I realized that Zam's escape proved that Kasaré was wrongly accused. And I didn't recall Panaka making any statements about rectifying that.

I understood that necessary precautions had to be taken to ensure the safety of our people. But at what end would that effort ultimately cost us?


	4. The Occupation

**THE EARLY DAYS DUET:**

BOOK ONE: RESTORING DIPLOMACY

_Chapter Four - The Occupation_

* * *

 

**32 BBY, Five months later**

_**Royal Gardens, Theed, Naboo** _

"So how has your bonding time been with Padmé?" Rabé asked, her dark eyes sparkling in amusement. I propped myself against a pole on the edge of the garden trellis, quietly sulking as I watched Rabé and Yané play a lethargic game of Theed Quoits.

My session with Padmé ended awhile ago, but I wanted to clear my head a bit and do some independent martial training. Only when my frustration had finally subsided did I allow myself to track down Rabé and Yané.

"The usual," I answered. "Prissy and I are getting along better than we used to, but it's still hard for me to put up with the additional lessons in etiquette. And Padmé really doesn't seem to like having to memorize the secret signals I come up with."

Rabé cast me a look of gentle, mocking scorn.

"Fine. That _you_ came up with," I edited.

Rabé smiled. "Much better."

Out of all of us, Rabé was our best bodyguard. She could come up with code signals at the drop of a hat, which proved invaluable to me, since I could only conjure so many. Padmé, on the other hand, was rather useless at it. Her area of expertise was diplomacy, and she would have much rather spent her time lecturing me on the idiosyncrasies of her trade. I however, could hardly stand putting up with one more lecture on the nuances of political antagonism.

Our practice of mimicry wasn't exactly a favorite activity for either of us. Amidala used her dry, neutral tone strictly when she was the Queen, which, was a persona she used for a majority of her time anyway. Teaching it to me just made her go into overtime with her persona. And speaking it myself? I was on the verge of falling asleep every time I opened my mouth to repeat something.

"I won't deny that we've made significant progress, though." I allowed, continuing my conversation with Rabé.

"That's good," Rabé said, keeping her eyes focused on the game in front of her. It was her move. "Do the two of you think you're ready to handle the job, should the situation arise?"

I shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I've been able to retain everything so far. But I've never really put it to the test. Frankly, I hope I never have to."

Rabé nodded. "I can understand that," she empathized. "I will say that it's a good thing you didn't need to step up to the plate last month when those mercenaries tried to abduct Amidala."

"We were supposed to be undergoing _secret_ negotiations with the Trade Federation in remote space," Yané said. "How those mercenaries managed to lock down on us in such an isolated location, I'll never know. That little adventure caught all of us by surprise."

"It was a close call," I agreed. I gave a sigh, already sick of the conversation. It seemed like decoy preparation was all that suddenly revolved around my life for the past five months. "So who's winning?" I asked, deliberately changing the topic.

"Me, for now," Yané replied. "But it's been a very close game. Rabé and I seem to keep alternating high scores."

"Why does that not surprise me?" I asked. Theed Quoit was a game that demanded both patience and accuracy. It was a calming exercise that helped maintain our mentality of grace under pressure.

It was Yané's turn to make a move. I watched her carefully prepare her shot. In one fluid motion, she released the ball from her palm and sent it flying gently towards the reflective pond in the center of the garden. Her aim proved accurate when the ball slid perfectly into one of the color-coordinated pipes that protruded from the still water.

"Nice shot," I exclaimed, impressed. I was never exactly stellar at this game. Patience was a virtue that I struggled to manifest.

"Would you like to play with us?" Yané offered.

"I'd lose without question."

"Well, you're already late in the game anyway. So losing for you is inevitable," Rabé laughed. "At least play for enjoyment. Maybe it will take your mind off of legal matters."

"Oh, very well," I consented.

Our quick game turned into a half-hour long rematch. I was starting to get the hang of it, once I stopped getting frustrated about missing the pole all the time. Both Yané and Rabé were good instructors, though. I managed to score six times in the total duration. But I could hardly own up to how much better the other two played consistently. It brought me to shame for my ineptness, but their company was the prime reason I was playing anyway.

"Handmaidens, your presence is requested in the queen's private chamber," a servant walked over and politely interrupted our game.

"Thank you, Asha," Yané said. Yané truly had a gift for remembering the names of all the staff members. I felt guilty when I couldn't place a name with a face. Maybe it was because my head was just too full of the stupid information Padmé had to keep telling me in our little tutoring sessions.

The three of us made our way to Amidala's quarters. We were surprised to only find Eirtaé in the room.

"Where is Amidala?" Rabé asked.

"She's still in the throne room with Saché, deliberating with the Advisory Council. I was sent to forward information to the three of you on this new...development."

Rabé, Yané and I all exchanged glances, feeling worry start to strain the dynamic of the room. "Is everything all right?" I asked.

"Frankly, no." Eirtaé sighed, removing her hood from her soft orange gown. She hesitated, as though she were carefully considering how to best approach her next sentence.

"What happened?" Yané prodded gently.

"The Trade Federation has entirely overstepped its bounds," Eirtaé said. "They've blockaded our trade routes, and refuse to reach settlement in withdrawing their presence from our orbit. They've also jammed our communications, disallowing us to make contact with the Galactic Senate. Now we have no way to make sense of why no progress has been made on this matter."

I sank into a nearby chair. If the Federation was so keen on keeping us in the dark, it meant that they had something to hide, not only from us, but from the Republic. One swift move like that suddenly changed the course of our interactions with the Federation drastically.

"They mean to invade us," I deduced. It was the only logical explanation. They had insisted that their treaty enabled their actions against us in the blockade was legal. But they decided to shrink away from formally deliberating the issue. That strongly implied that they were not inclined to negotiate. An attack may become inevitable.

"Does Amidala have a solution?" Yané asked gravely.

Eirtaé shook her head. "She's still discussing plausible courses of action with the Advisory Council. Both Governer Bibble and Captain Panaka are insistent that she set up defenses for the planet, but she seems adamant in maintaining reliability on negotiations."

I held back a scoff of affront. I knew Padmé was all for keeping the peace—it was the only reason she was elected in the first place, because of her passion for it. But she crossed a line here. At some point, she had to realize that part of protecting her people, was to literally _protect_ her people. Words don't always manage to solve problems. The Federation certainly didn't seem inclined to use them.

"How can she fail to realize that negotiation is no longer an option?" I demanded. "The reason we're in this mess in the first place, is because the Federation doesn't seem to want _any_ business in discussing this predicament."

Yané agreed, adding, "Jamming us is an aggressive assault on our diplomatic jurisdiction. They must mean to destroy us. There is no other viable explanation."

"What are we going to do?" Rabé asked. Fear began to show behind her dark eyes. Horrible potential futures were beginning to make an assault on our imaginations. We couldn't afford to let it get the better of us.

I looked up at Rabé and merely responded "Protect and serve. By any and all means possible."

Panaka suddenly entered the room, not even bothering to knock. "Sabé," he said tersely.

I looked over to him, dreading and anticipating what I knew he would say next:

"It's time."

  
  


_**Later** _

Padmé looked like a somber, isolated statue in the vast throne room. She maintained a stoic presence, but her grief was undeniably present.

As I predicted, the invasion had indeed taken place. It broke my heart, knowing all the turmoil that was forcing its way through the streets of Naboo. Amidala's hesitance to enforce military protection cost us any thread of hope we had at preserving our planet. The Neimoidians swept through without even breaking so much as a sweat. It was only a matter of time before they breached the Palace.

"Milady," I said softly, standing alongside her. I wouldn't be any help if all I did was bash her for her inadequacy. In the end, it wasn't my government to run, and I had to respect that it was her final decision. I was about to impersonate her. Deviating from her game plan was one of those actions that I was 'ineligible' to make.

Amidala kept her eyes locked at the transparisteel window. I followed her gaze, looking on to the horrific scene of battle droids plowing through Theed Plaza. Citizens were fleeing every which way, terrified of the unexpected violence that had broken out on our peaceful city. I swallowed, hoping to rid the unwanted lump that had formed in the back of my throat.

"If we are to move, we should do so quickly," I said.

Amidala lowered her eyes sadly. "Sabé, whatever happens to us, I need you to understand that I only want what is best for my people. Nute Gunray's stampede through this system is intolerable, and I will not become prey to his illegal insinuations."

I nodded. "Understood."

"Our whole planet is depending on you to ensure that this resolves peacefully, one way or the other."

Tears threatened their way to escape, but I blinked them back. I knew that refusing the Viceroy could potentially threaten my own life. But I needed to remain strong. "I understand." I didn't agree, but I understood, and would follow through.

Padmé bit her lip, concealing the scar of remembrance that was painted there. The unintentional symbolism of her simple action struck an odd chord with me.

"The only way we will be able to endure this is if we are willing to set our bitterness aside," Padmé said. "We have enough enemies as it is. We can't afford to let our trivial animosity with each other get in the way of our imperative. In the end, we still want the same thing: to keep our people safe."

Under the circumstances, I could agree with that statement as well. "Don't worry, Prissy," I reassured her. It was the first time I used my antagonistic nickname for her in a genuinely affectionate manner. "We'll get through this. I still have faith that the Republic will come through."

Padmé redirected her gaze towards me, her eyes soft with thanks. But there was a little bit of doubt behind her brown eyes as well. "Let's hope that they do."

"Your Highness," Panaka called, still standing at his post in at the doorway. He was anxious for us to swap as swiftly as possible.

"On our way," Amidala acknowledged. I flanked her alongside a squadron of palace guards, hastening our way back to her dressing room.

* * *

It felt strange having Rabé, Eirtaé, Saché, and Yané apply my hair and make-up. Amidala had removed her regalia and donned my own handmaiden gown. We had decided on having the handmaidens wear gradient shaded dresses, phasing from yellow to burnt orange, symbolizing the quiet rage we had for the invasion that had taken place.

I would be wearing a thick, black, heavy skirted gown with a feathered headdress; mourning for the loss of our planet's reign of peace. The dress was frumpy, to say the least, but the idea was that it would better cloak the difference in physique that Padmé and I had. We didn't look drastically different on a physical level, but we wanted to ensure anonymity as best as possible.

My face and hands were caked with white face paint, and my lashes were framed with dark liner and mascara. My lips had a bold accentuation of red, matching the shade of two red beauty marks that were symmetrically placed on my cheeks, representing the balance of peace and serenity on our planet. Kind of ironic, given our present situation.

By the time they had finished with me, I hardly recognized myself. A stoic, childlike monarch stared coolly back at me through the mirror.

I had become Amidala.

No one had even a single smile to offer in the entirety of my transformation. After my look was completed, we made our way back to the throne room, flanked by Panaka and four other guards.

Saché cried a little bit, which surprised me. She was always so stern and forceful, it was a little jarring for me to see her looking this vulnerable. Padmé hugged each of us in turn, reminding us to be brave. Of that, she didn't have to tell us twice.

When she reached me, she held up a simple looking amulet. "My parents made this for me back when I was a child," she said softly, "as a reminder of the life I led before politics came into the picture."

I knew what she was asking of me. "No, Padmé, I couldn't possib—"

"I _need_ you to protect this for me at all costs," she urged me.

"But Padmé, I—"

"Promise me you'll return it to me when this crisis is over," she demanded.

I hesitated before taking the amulet. "I promise," I replied.

She braved a reassuring smile, then turned to Saché and Yané. "If in the event we are to be separated, I need to two of you to stay here on Naboo."

Saché was the first to protest "Milady, with all due respect, our loyalty was pledged strictly to you."

"I know," Padmé replied. "But I hate the idea of leaving my people feeling abandoned by the royal presence when I'm led away. My handmaidens have been identified as an extension of myself. And you two are the strongest diplomatic minds that I know. I trust you will do whatever you can to try and resolve this matter should we have to part ways."

"Yes milady," Saché bowed her head in quiet defeat.

Padmé's tone shifted from urgent to gentle. "We _will_ see this through," she promised us.

"They've breached our entrance," an undercover guard reported on Panaka's comm link. I felt my stomach churn in dread. They were here already?

"What of the Advisory Council?" Panaka asked.

"They've unwillingly presented themselves to the Viceroy. The Governor is being forced to lead them your direction. So far they haven't been able to hack into our short range security transmissions, so some of my men may still have a fighting chance to— " the communication had faltered into white noise.

Turns out the droids managed jam our last resort for communication. My heartbeat began to accelerate. Hope for victory was dwindling ever faster, and Nute Gunray was on his way. To _me._

All too soon, a battle droid clanked its way into the throne room, armed with an E-5 blaster rifle. "Lower your weapons," it ordered.

A single droid with a clumsy weapon didn't seem all that threatening. But when twenty other armed droids marched in after it, the situation suddenly became far more terrifying. Governor Bibble was being directed by gunpoint to stand next to Viceroy Gunray and his weasel of a lieutenant, Rune Haako.

"At last we are graced with your presence, your Highness," Gunray greeted in mock amiability. He phrased that as though it were I who was paying _him_ an unwelcome visit. I was sickened by his pompous attitude. Cowardice almost suited him better. I withheld a grimace at the sight of his swarthy, green dappled skin. Just as slimy as his personality.

I maintained a state of resolute calm, but my heart was feeling anything but. Gunray may be a coward, but he was a coward who was hiding behind an entire army of capable battle droids for added protection.

I kept my expression placid, and attempted to use my neutral-toned mimicry for the first time ever in front of an enemy. "Your intentions for intimidation are misguided, Viceroy," I said drily. My voice sounded just like Amidala. I could only hope that my words would do an equally good job. "Your intervention here will be short lived."

"I beg to differ, Amidala," Gunray disagreed. "I think you'll find my methods of negotiation to be very...persuasive. I'm sure your selfless devotion to your people will prevent them from undergoing any further annihilation."

My blood froze. I had no response to offer. Nute Gunray took my silence as a means to get me to cooperate, and signaled his droids to lead us away at gunpoint. We proceeded from the corridor down the grand marble staircase.

"How will you explain this invasion to the Senate?" Bibble spoke up, coming to my rescue.

Nute responded snidely, "the Naboo and the Federation will forge a treaty that will legitimize our occupation here. I've been assured it will be ratified by the Senate."

That much I knew I could respond to. "I will _not_ cooperate," I objected. My voice was kept steady, and my eyes were downcast. But my stubborn resilience remained ever-present.

"Now, now, your Highness," Nute Gunray chastised. I hated patronizers with a passion, but not as much I hated this walking piece of bile. "You are not going to like what we have in store for your people." he reminded me. "In time, their suffering will persuade you to see our point of view." He was right about the first part. But it didn't make me inclined to revoke my statement.

Once we reached the bottom of the stairs, Nute Gunray gestured for one of his commanding droids.

"Commander," he said.

The droid approached.

"Process them," he said with a wave of his grimy green hand.

"Yes sir," The droid responded, then turned to its droid counterpart: "Take them to Camp Four."

The other droid nodded in submission to the command. With that, I was led away along with Bibble, Panaka, the four guards, and my fellow handmaidens, unsure of what the coming hours would bring.

 


End file.
